


Like Water

by straightforwardly



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Canon, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 02:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: One rainy day, Tuuri visits Ensi.





	Like Water

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a stray line in a different writing project which made me wonder about Ensi and Tuuri's relationship. This ended up being more of a character/relationship study than a proper story. I’m not 100% wedded to this interpretation of Ensi & Tuuri’s relationship, but I did have fun with it.

Water fell brisk and heavy from the roof of the world. Ensi sat in the doorway of her little hut, and watched a black umbrella bob its way down the path. A visitor— her granddaughter. The rain turned the small figure holding it into little more than smears of peach and silver, but there was no mistaking that blazing spirit. 

“Grandma!” Tuuri clomped up to her, the blur of her features slowly resolving into a broad grin. She ducked under the shelter of the roof’s overhang, her feet sliding about in too-big boots. Her brother’s, no doubt: she’d always preferred his things to her own. Despite the umbrella, patches of wet spread all over her clothing; droplets of rainwater slid from her hair down the back of her neck.

“What brings you now?” said Ensi. She did not say the words softly: she never did, not when her own children were small and not now. Even soft-hearted Onni did not flinch at her tone when he heard it, though he, like the others, still paid heed. 

Tuuri had been coming often in the past few days, taking advantage of her grandmother’s reappearance to see her before she wandered off into the forest again. Each time she came with a mouth full of questions, begging for tales of what Ensi had seen over her long years. 

But Ensi doubted that she came now with her parents’ blessing, not on such a cold, harsh day. How Anne-Mari would fret if she saw her now. Juka too. Ensi didn’t know if it were marrying that woman that had taken the spine out of him, or if it had been Onni’s birth and the sudden reality of having a non-immune child. She couldn’t say: she hadn’t been there for either event. 

“Oh!” Tuuri lifted one hand from the umbrella’s handle to scratch her cheek. It was too much for her one little hand to hold; the umbrella listed to the side, creating a new wet patch on her elbow, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Mom wanted to know if you’d be coming to dinner.”

“Mm. And she told you to ask me, did she?” 

“Ah…”

She thought not. How like Tuuri it was, to try to hide her disobedience in the gaps between carefully selected truths. Clever, this one was, and nothing like either of her parents for all that she looked so much like her mother. Not much like Ensi either. She had the same hunger to know the world around her, but there the similarity ended: Tuuri would chose to run where Ensi would have crept; would shout where Ensi knew it better to keep her silence. 

Neither was she much like her brother, for all the time they spent with one another. Indeed, they were a study in contrasts: one cautious to the point of stagnancy, and the other bold to the point of foolishness. It was their fool parents’ fault. They’d crushed their firstborn’s spirit under their loving concern; their secondborn rebelled against it, and so had never learned to be sensible. 

Her indomitable cheer did remind Ensi, a little, of the aunt whom she’d not thought upon in many years. It told her nothing of what to do with her. Lalli was easy; he was the most like herself, and she knew the ways to cut through his childish pride and make him listen. Onni was harder, but only in comparison. The kind of fear that the lack of immunity could bring was no new thing. Ensi had known many like him. But Tuuri—

Had she been born immune, Ensi would have taught her how to best use a rifle or wield a knife. She would have taken that adventurous spirit, that bravery, and given it a heavy dose of sense and a direction to point it all in. But as she was… she left Ensi at somewhat of a loss. She didn’t care to ruminate on what-ifs, normally— she saw no point in it— but Tuuri made it tempting.

Tuuri was still looking at her, her grin having turned sheepish. Unashamed, or, if shamed, only because she’d been caught in her deceit. 

“Sit,” said Ensi, gesturing to the empty space besides her.

Tuuri sat.

Sharp words did nothing to deter her; they slid off of her as easily as the rainwater slipping down her neck. Ensi wrapped lessons into her tales, the only words she could count on Tuuri paying attention to, but was uncertain if those deeper meanings ever reached her. It sat ill on her, that uncertainty. It was not a feeling she was accustomed to. 

“You may tell your mother that I accept her hospitality,” Ensi finally said. She paused, and in that interval Tuuri seemed to visibly wilt. Then Ensi said, “Now, tell me what you really came for, and this time without any of those excuses to pretty it up.”

Tuuri’s eyes lit up. She needed no further encouragement. The words came spilling out of her mouth like water tumbling down from a high mountain-top. Ensi sat back, and allowed them to flood over her. 

In time, she’d find her answers. It was like navigating an unfamiliar patch of forest: one only had to be patient, and take heed of what the gods had to say. Until then, she’d stay here, and pass on to her what she could with with her stories. 

Outside, the rain continued to pour down.


End file.
